


you're inside of me (permanently)

by ZeroSum404 (sensalito)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: A little, Anal Sex, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Mostly Sweet, Nipple Play, Oral Sex, Painplay, Piercings, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-26
Updated: 2015-04-24
Packaged: 2017-11-15 02:59:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/522405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sensalito/pseuds/ZeroSum404
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles wants to get pierced. Again. It has nothing to do with the guy working at the parlor, nope.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Saucery](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saucery/gifts).



> This is for Saucery, who is awesome.
> 
> A big thank you to my people over in the Steter Network, who gave me the motivation to not only edit this mess but also finish it.

Stiles never pegged himself as a masochist. He quickly revises this evaluation of himself when barely a month after getting his first piercing, he goes back to the same parlor.

He needs a new barbell for his tongue piercing, anyway. The one he has is getting a bit too long and he wants new balls, ones who glows in the dark and such, like he's seen on the internet.

The pretty brunette up front is new. The last time he’s been here, there was only Derek. She has tattoos all over her arms and Stiles is tempted to get one suddenly, because she looks damn badass. Probably, it wouldn’t have the same effect on him.

"Thanks, sugar. Now, how about you tell me what I can do for you? Wanna get inked?"

Welp. Fuck his no brain-to-mouth filter very much.

"Uh... No. I'm- that is, I want a piercing? Another one. Uh... Is Derek here?"

A crush? Him? Pshhhh, nah. What makes you think that? Well. Okay, yes. But who can blame him? Have you seen the guy? He has this air about him, dark and kind of broody, almost... sexual. Predatory, even.

"Derek's in the back.”

Stiles looks in said direction, maybe a little too eagerly and the woman smirks.

“Well we usually only take people with an appointment but, lucky you, business’ slow, today. I'm Laura, by the way. I'll go get him for you, love."

And then she winks at him and literally sashays away as Stiles stands there, not really knowing what to do with himself with all these attractive people he’s been seeing lately. Does God have no mercy for his poor soul? Honestly.

He's looking at the walls where dozens of photos of the works the parlor has done over the years are displayed, pictures of incredibly intricate tattoos of all kinds along with multiple piercings in increasingly delicate places are all over the place, when a deep familiar voice makes him jump.

"Back so soon?"

Derek is standing there, one magnificent eyebrow cocked and a smirk to rival Laura’s on his face. May any deity up there have mercy on his teenage mind for getting all those salacious, sinuous thoughts. Not that similar thoughts haven’t been plaguing him for the last month or so but, you know, having the object of his fantasies right here is kind of making his thoughts get even more creative right now and-

"I- uh- yeah. I was- I mean, I want a new piercing?"

It sounds like a question. Why does it sound like a question? He wants that piercing. He's sure of himself. Oh my God, is he though? Of course, he is! It’s just, it's gonna hurt. Probably like a bitch. He thoughtlessly grabs his pec (or at least where should be his pec), giving it a quick squeeze. But Derek knows what he's doing, it won't hurt that much, right? Why is he even hesitating in the first place? He already did it once, he can do it again, no problem. And is he really arguing with himself in his head? Right now? While Derek is still looking at him, might he add. Though the man sports a vaguely amused expression on his face. Some would even call that look fond. Wait, no time to delude himself.

"I... want my nipple pierced." He blurts out.

Smooth, Stiles, real smooth. With the way he looks at Derek, it's like holding a giant glowing sign saying "TOUCH ME PLEASE! I WANT YOUR HANDS ON MY BODY!" For all the good that it'll bring him too, the guy is way out of his league.

Derek's eyes darken, his expression turning serious and... well, ‘hungry’ is the word that comes to Stiles’ mind?

"Well, follow me, then."

He takes two steps backwards through the curtains of the little corridor going in the room where his materials are, watching Stiles follow him, and then turns around once in the room. Stiles can only gape at the display of muscles shifting under his black tank top. He watches as the man clinically washes his hands two times and uses an anti-bacterial lotion before sitting in front of the tablet where he already set up his instruments while Stiles drooled over him.

How long has Stiles been staring at his back anyway? The guy looks over his shoulder at him, a smile tugging the corner of his lips and a knowing look on his beautiful face. Oh God, this guy is so onto him. He knows Stiles wants in his pants. Fuck. Fuck his life. Fuck his distinct lack of subtlety. Fuck everything.

"You should sit down if you want me to pierce you. Can't do it standing. Well, we could try..."

Derek looks at him all lazily, and Stiles- Stiles is not crazy, okay? It sounds like an innuendo. Stiles swears it, he’s not dreaming, this was an innuendo. Is it flirting? It can’t be, right? Stiles is Stiles, he doesn’t get flirted with by hot men who makes sexual innuendos while looking at him all lecherous and- Stiles blushes so red he ought to look like a lobster, finally sitting down sheepishly and a bit awkwardly.

"Better to take off your shirt, too..." It's said with a smirk and it makes Stiles curse his treacherous body for its reactions to stupidly attractive men.

He doesn’t know how to act or what to do with himself. He’s not even sure anymore he knows how to breathe or what’s his name anymore. He does remember how to take off his shirt, though, so he does as ordered before it becomes awkward and a shiver runs down his spine, making the fine air on his arms stand up.

"Cold, babe?"

Derek- Derek just called him babe. Derek. Babe. Oh my God. The eyebrow thingy is back too. Fuck. Stiles isn’t going to make it out of here alive, he’s sure of it. How do you survive that much sexual tension?

"A little." He squeaks, blush back full force.

The man's lips twitch and he calls for the pretty bru- for Laura to close the door of  the room. Stiles had completely forgotten about her. It’s going to suck going out there if she’s been privy to what’s been going on here, Stiles can already feel the teasing looks through the door.

"There we go. Now, left or right?"

The man is already putting on gloves and reaching out for the necessary items to clean his skin and Stiles only has a second to distractedly say "Right" before the man's hands are on his chest. Stiles gasps as his nipple is thumbed. He looks up at Derek questioningly. The man's eyes are dark and he looks concentrated but he still briefly looks up, a corner of his lips turned up.

"Testing the elasticity. Relax."

Stiles "oh"'s then nods, licking his lower lip and biting it as Derek cleans up his pec.

“Do you want it vertical or _horizontal_?”

Stiles definitely forgot how to breathe anymore. Is this guy for _real_? It should sound _ridiculous and yet_. Lord help him, Stiles will start crying any second now, just you wait.

"Stiles?”

The words gets stuck in his throat and he clears it a bit too loudly to be natural.

“Horizontal. Please.”

Could he be more obvious? Stiles thinks not, but apparently Derek doesn’t take exception and just makes a tiny mark on his nipple with a special pen.

“Last question: how would you like for me to take you out on a date tonight?"

He looks up so fast to see Derek's face, he almost gives himself whiplash. He's staring at Derek, trying to figure out if he heard right and, if so, gathering the courage to answer him- when he feels a biting sensation on his chest followed by a tingling kind of tug and it’s all pretty unpleasant but also very quick. He’s still grimacing when he looks back down to his chest to see Derek is finishing his work: he just barely got the needle out and is screwing the second ball on the barbell. Derek cleans the area once more before looking up, eyebrow cocked.

"Well?"

Stiles gapes. He just... stares. Open-mouthed and disbelieving before sputtering and flailing until he manages to somehow knock against the right side of his chest, close enough to his nipple to send a small pain wave through his body. He yelps then winces, hands fluttering over his chest, not daring to touch anything. Derek looks at him disapprovingly and tuts.

"Careful there. Don't want to undo all my hard work, do you?"

The man then proceeds to gently caress around his abused nipple, soothing, never touching the piercing directly. Stiles’ whole pec tingle in a pleasant way which makes him give a little moan.

"That a yes?" Derek growls and Stiles nods frantically. "Good. Because I don't think I can wait until that little thing is better, much less completely healed, before seeing you again. Maybe we can find a good use for that tongue piercing I gave you last month."

Derek is still gently fingering the contour of his nipple, the touch barely there but with pressure enough to send a mix of pleasure/pain down Stiles' spine and he's looking at Stiles as if, were they the only ones in the boutique, Stiles would probably get fucked right then and there. The young man shivers.

Oh, he has a feeling tonight's gonna be good.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my poor attempt at writing porn. I'm so sorry ._.

After the whole nipple teasing bit, Derek had, with the air of someone who knows exactly what he is doing and does it well, put a small bandage over his nipple and very seriously told him to go see Laura and listen very carefully for the nipple piercing care instructions she was going to give him.

As Stiles predicted, Laura did kind of mocked him a little, but surprisingly, it was all good natured and Derek got mocked much more than he did. The grumbles he could hear coming from the back room where Derek was hiding only made Stiles even more enamoured with the man.

 

What followed in the evening, though, _that_ was pure magic.

All in all, the date was _good_. More than good, even. Derek took him to a fair and they ate cotton candy and made out under a big oak tree. Cliché but also the nicest evening Stiles has ever had. What's better, though, is what happens after.

Stiles already knows he isn't going to go back home after the date. He already knows what Derek has planned for him. He knows and he’s _craving_ it.

Still, it comes as a bit of a shock when he is roughly and expertly tugged right against Derek in the elevator to Derek's loft. They lean against the wall as Derek goes to town on his neck, the collar of his shirt dragged down to the point where Stiles can hear the seams giving over the sound of his moans and the noises of the ascending elevator. Rough hands slide down his body (though never once his right nipple is touched) and grip his thighs, hoisting him up without effort; Stiles wraps his legs around Derek's waist and slides his hands in the man's thick hair.

"Ah!" The shout escapes his lips as teeth sink in his neck. Pain and pleasure are battling for dominance and it feels as though his body doesn't know what it wants more: Derek is pushing and pulling, biting, sucking,... He’s everywhere at once.

Stiles’ head thumps back against wall just as the elevator's doors open... revealing a man in his late thirties watching them with a smirk.

"Don't make him scream too loud, the neighbors would complain."

"Fuck off, Peter."

Stiles’ legs are deposited on the floor, and without even being introduced he is gently steered towards the end of the corridor, Derek plastered against his back.

"Goodnight." 'Peter' sing-songs, fingers waving at Stiles as the elevator's doors shut.

"Wha' was tha'?" Stiles slurs, a bit delirious with how fast everything is going.

Derek chuckles in his neck but doesn’t answer, sliding a metal door open sideways and walking in, taking Stiles with him as he goes.

The whole thing is an open space with Derek’s bed smack in the middle even though Stiles can see a spiral staircase leads to a small corridor with three doors, of which he’s sure at least one must be a bedroom. Aside from Derek’s weird taste for home arrangement, the rest of the floor is sparsely furnished: comfortable looking couch, dark coffee table, a tv - the basics of every home and no more.

Derek is still pressed against him from head to toe, letting him take in his home. He doesn’t push or prod, he just lets Stiles look silently. Stiles is a little nervous now that his head is cleared of the hormones and takes his time, breathing slowly.

Finally, when he’s good and ready, he turns around and brushes his lips against Derek’s. The older man is looking at him so softly, Stiles can’t help but relax, letting go of the last of his nerves and grabbing a handful of Derek’s t-shirt, walking backwards to the bed. Derek lips lift up a corner, barely there smile making Stiles’ heart miss a beat.

The whole situation feels mellow, the complete opposite of the elevator ride. Stiles is glad. Yes, the manhandling had been hot but it’s his first time and it was also sort of his first date and his first real kiss and he doesn’t wanna rush it. He wants to remember everything.

“We don’t have to do everything tonight, you know? We should keep some stuff for the next times.” Derek waggles his eyebrows.

Stiles bites his lip. “Next times?”

“What? Already bored of me?” Derek jokes, though his tone is a little hesitant.

“No!” Stiles reassures him. “It’s not that, it’s just- I wasn’t sure what you wanted, is all.”

Derek hums. “Well, considering I’ve spent the last month thinking of you and tonight was the best date I’ve ever had, I think it’s safe to say I want you around. I mean, if you’re interested?”

“I am.” Stiles’s fingertips traces Derek’s nose and bumped on his lips. “You gonna give me a reason to stay the night, Mr Hale?”

Derek laughs, “I can think of a thing or two we could do.”

* * *

After that, there is no talking.

They’ve decided against condoms: Stiles’ a virgin and with his ADHD, he has to do blood test every once in a while; as for Derek, he’s a tattoo/piercing artist, he’s always cautious, and as a regular blood donor he would have been notified if anything was wrong with him.

They shed their clothes slowly, unhurried and sweet and kind of perfect.

They get a bit more desperate once naked, skin brushing skin, no barriers.

Derek starts peppering Stiles’ chest with kisses, ever aware not to bump accidentally in Stiles’ nipple. He does pay attention to the other nipple, though, peaked and sensitive like it’s never been before. Stiles arches his back on a gasp, pink mouth open and wet from all the kisses they’ve been exchanging.

As Derek starts connecting the moles littering the pale skin in front of him with his tongue, Stiles whines.

“Please, stop teasing.”

Derek caresses the outside of the lean thighs on either side of him and brushes his nose on the tight stomach under his mouth in a nod. He mouths a little at the sharpness of a hip before following the bone to the angry red cock standing in the vee of Stiles’ legs. It’s demanding attention and Derek obliges, burying his face at the base, tonguing it and following the length up to the tip.

Stiles’ hand finds Derek’s head almost immediately, just resting in the thick locks, a bit uncertain. As an encouragement, Derek bumps his head into Stiles’ hand, sucking in the tip of his cock a bit hard to feel Stiles’ grip tighten. It does the trick as Stiles forms a fist on the back of Derek’s head and moans.

Derek slides his mouth down to the root of Stiles’ cock before going back up, starting a steady rhythm to the clenches of Stiles’ fist in his hair.

Stiles keens on a downstroke, looking at Derek for a second before letting his head fall back so as not to shoot too fast. The sight of Derek’s lips stretch around his girth is obscene: spit is shining around his mouth, there’s even some drooling on his chin; he’s also rutting against the sheets, a desperate edge evident in his features as he must be coming closer to orgasm.

Derek pauses an instant to lick at his thumb and suck his index before returning to his task. Stiles feels the appendages slide down his crack in a pass before a thumb commences to draw circles on his hole. A mewling sound escapes Stiles’ lips as the extremity of the thumb is pushed inside.

It doesn’t take very long, Stiles is inexperienced and the moment Derek starts to thumb as Stiles’ hole, he’s gone. He tries to warn Derek, a bit late, when he starts shooting; most of his come ends up painting Derek’s face and some of it is just there, on Derek’s tongue and the corner of his mouth as he pants.

“Good?”

Derek is resting his head on Stiles’ thigh, one of his hand massaging Stiles’ twitching leg muscles.

“I think I- just had a- sort of- religious experience,” Stiles chuckles, a bit breathless.

Derek’s answering beam of a smile makes Stiles laughs a little harder.

This man is ridiculous. He loves it.

* * *

They both decide to cuddle for a bit to recuperate from their orgasms; Derek had come around the same time as Stiles did and left a wet spot somewhere near their feet.

Derek’s getting into it again after fifteen minutes or so, broad hands roaming all along Stiles’ naked body and dipping on his back more and more often as time passes. The touch is enough to invigorate Stiles once more as he himself starts exploring Derek’s body with his fingers. He loves the feeling on Stiles’ coarse chest hairs against his fingers; he buries his nose against Derek’s chest, smelling the musk of male sweat.

Derek rolls them over, one big hand clutching one of Stiles’ asscheek and kneading, as they exchange increasingly filthier kisses. Derek’s other hand reaches for the bedside table and grabs the bottle of slick upon it, knocking over a lamp and diverse objects resting there.

A ‘pop’ sound is heard followed by the feeling of a cold finger sliding down between his cheeks. Derek separates their mouths for half a second to try and ask him if he wants it but Stiles just pushes his ass against Derek’s probing finger and reclaims his mouth before he has a chance to find his voice.

Derek makes sure to prepare him well, Stiles’ legs over his shoulders, taking way too much time in Stiles’ opinion (not that he doesn’t enjoy it, what with his prostate being brushed and poked time after time) before lubing his dick thoroughly.

When Stiles joked about religious experiences prior in the evening, he hadn’t yet got to have Derek’s thick cock sliding into his ass.

The feeling of being penetrated is akin to no other: at first kind of weird, but a good weird, as something slides up his hole for the first time of his life; then almost blinding as Derek swiftly and accurately locates his prostate and proceeds to nail it as often as possible, at first slowly then picking up speed.

“Stiles. Stiles, look at me baby, open your eyes.” Stiles does. “You like that, baby? You want more? Lemme hear you.”

Stiles can’t help his little choked up moans and mewls as his hole gets taken again and again, and hearing Derek call him ‘baby’ just adds fuel to his fire.

It’s getting a little more rough and a touch desperate, reminding Stiles of their elevator trip earlier, and that’s exactly what he needs right now.

His knees are nearly to his ears with the way he’s contortioned but he doesn’t even care: he can feel every ridge of Derek’s length so well, the walls of his ass sensitive and almost too hot.

“More- yes please.”

He’s losing total control of his voice the faster and harder Derek goes on his hole. He’s getting pounded within an inch of his life, the bed smacking in the wall and the sound of Derek’s hips meeting his ass filling the space around them.

His nails scratch down Derek’s back as he searches for something to hold onto, blood welling up on their passage. His orgasm knocks right into him like a freight train and he lets loose a scream without meaning to, his whole body nearly convulsing as Derek’s hot cum finally paints the inside of his ass while his splashes both their chests.

Derek lowers himself gently over him and Stiles’ legs finally fall from those broad shoulders into a lazy sprawl taking half the bed. He is never moving again. As a matter of fact, neither is Derek, Stiles is gonna keep right there between his thighs, cock snug inside of him. At the thought, Stiles hums contentedly, arms wrapping around Derek who’s nuzzling his throat.

“Everything you hoped for?”

 **  
** Stiles’ smile widens. “Nah. Much more.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos are always welcome and constructive criticism encouraged.


End file.
